Split apart
by fixusi
Summary: As I close my eyes tightly, trying to shut out the sickening voice, I start to think back. Every time something bad happens, one way or another, I pay the price. And for the first time I start to think that maybe, just maybe, I didn't deserve all the crap I got. Maybe this time I can get away of this without too much pain and sorrow. Just this once.


**AN: hi:P Sorry it's been a while, but I'm in Turkey (gotta swim) aaaaaaand I broke my wrist. It makes writing hard, to be honest. :D **

**Warnings: Spoilers to season eight, but nothing too major.  
****Set: On season eight.  
****Characters: Sam, Dean  
****Pairings: none  
****Rated: T just to be sure.  
****Disclaimer: I don't own... ):**

Every time when Dean didn't watch, I closed my eyes, hoping it would stop. But as always, I knew it wouldn't. I still tried.. every time.

He mostly just talked. Whispered things to my ear, horrible things, but things I knew weren't real. I knew it wasn't real, I knew _he _wasn't real. I could hang into my sanity with that thought -_Lucifer isn't real_. And the few times I started thinking otherwise, I laid my thumb over my still sore scar, and pressed. Every time it worked, and Lucifer was gone.

It didn't last long, though. After a while Lucifer had taken control of me -my mind, to be exact-, and for a moment it had seemed like everything would blow up and I'd end up dead (or worse), but somehow Dean found a way out of it. Lucifer was gone and I was up and going again.

Cas, on the other hand, wasn't fine. Another weight on my shoulders to bear. It was my fault, after all. If I hadn't lost my sanity like that, he would still be fine.

Dean had said it was right thing to happen to him; he had broken my wall, he had betrayed us, he had let the leviathans out to the world, and the list went on. But I saw something behind Dean's eyes, something that told me that things weren't the same in his thoughts. Cas had been -he was- his best friend.

Dean had always been the same. Hell, he still is. Worrying, but never showing it.

As I close my eyes tightly, trying to shut out the sickening voice, I start to think back. Every time something bad happens, one way or another, I pay the price. And for the first time I start to think that maybe, just _maybe, _I didn't deserve all the crap I got.

Maybe this time I can get away of this without too much pain and sorrow. Just this _once_.

* * *

It had started with blackouts. A little moments where I am doing something, maybe just talking with Dean, when suddenly I am standing in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand. When I look at the clock, I see that I've spent half an hour doing something and I can't remember anything.

It didn't happen often. Maybe two or three times in a week, if even that. Dean never noticed anything; at least he didn't say I had done something unusual. I never asked, never even told about these blackouts. Why would I? I've gone through a lot of crap in my short life, and I knew it wasn't serious.

-I hoped it wasn't serious. After a few weeks we were hunting this one ghost and a coin. Stupid, I know. Anyways, the coin made you kill the people you had disagreements with, and like always, things turned bad. Dean touched the coin -how was that even possible?- and I was his target. He was pissed at me for many reasons, mostly because I didn't search for him when he was in purgatory.

He had a gun pointing at me. I tried to tell him not to do it, but anything seemed to fail. I felt my head starting to ache -like I was having a vision, a lovely, stabbing pain inside by brains- and everything went black for a second. Literally a second. And then I was on the floor, my whole body hurting, back against the sofa. Table in front of me was broken and Dean was still pointing his gun at me.

Well, he didn't shoot me. Garth hit the coin out of his hand before he had a chance; thank God. Dean didn't remember it clearly, so I asked Garth afterwards what had happened. He told me I had attacked Dean but lost. I didn't have -still don't have- any memory of thinking I should _attack _Dean to protect myself. Yeah, maybe I would have done it, since it was pretty close call, but I _don't remember _thinking so at the moment.

Things went normal for a while. Me and Dean fought a little. He had this friend of his, Benny, who was a vampire, and to me it was not okay. I had trusted a supernatural creature once, and what good did it bring? Nothing. Okay, maybe I didn't kill myself because she was there to tell me not to, but that's about it.

Every day I lived was hell. It felt like Dean didn't trust me, and that was probably true. Imagine the worst thing that could happen to you, and double the feeling, and maybe you'll know. Hope you won't.

Plus that, the blackouts worsened. They started to last longer, even an hour sometimes. But I figured the pattern; every time I felt threatened or mad at someone, blackout came. But as always, Dean didn't notice, or if he even did notice, he didn't show it. And it made me feel even more bad and guilty.

Then, one day, came the trials. Dean told me he would do them, that no way he was going to let me do them. He said that every time we had to save the world, one of us got killed, and if someone had to die, it would be him. I was surprised that it didn't make me feel better to hear that he still cared.

Dean told me to stay put and he would kill the hellhound, and it was okay to me. But what ever went like we planned it to go?

First I was standing in the kitchen, next I was laying on the cold, hard ground, covered in blood and a dead hellhound next to me. Dean was laying a few meters from me, looking at me like he always did when he was disappointed. He said nothing, but his eyes told me everything needed. I had let him down again.

Over time things worsened more. I felt a huge weight on my shoulders with every step I took, and it pushed me down. I just wanted to curl up to myself and maybe even die. I felt like Dean didn't care about me. Still I kept telling Dean everything was alright, that I saw a light at the end of the tunnel, a way out of this all.

I have always been a good liar.

One day I had another blackout, and after I woke up from it (it had lasted nearly two hours. _Two hours_) I had the worst headache ever. I figured I should get to know what I do during these blackouts, so I booked myself a motel room from a city nearby -I told Dean there was an old friend of mine. He didn't believe it, I know he didn't, but he let me go there so what's the problem?- and locked myself in. I placed my laptop on top of the fridge and put the webcam on. It would record my doings.

I think I was in the shower when the blackout hit me, because after a second I wasn't in the shower anymore, but in the messy living room with only jeans on. I was breathing heavily as if I had run for a long time.

I got up from the floor, slowly walking to the laptop. Kitchen was a mess, too.

Switching on the recorded footage, I sat on the chair. My head was exploding. No way in hell this was normal, the whole apartment seemed to be a mess and my head had never been so achy. Not even during the visions I got when I was just a kid.

I focused my eyes on the video. I saw myself, going through the rooms as if I was trying to find something. Apparently someone knocked the door, because 'I' suddenly calmed down and walked to the door, opening it. I couldn't see who it was on the door, but I saw that 'I' was angry when 'I' returned to the kitchen.

And then, out of nowhere, the camera turned black. Fast-forwarding a bit, I found out that the next scene was me, waking up from the floor. Disappointed and confused as I was, I called Dean to pick me up. He didn't ask, I didn't tell.

Few weeks went forward, my blackouts went worse as I started to get sick. Somehow I knew it wasn't a normal sickness, but whatever was that what caused it, I suffered. Weight on my shoulders began to really drag me down; I knew Dean didn't trust me, and it was just something I couldn't...

However. I was a mess, a grenade just waiting to go off. And one day the waiting ended.

I was fighting with Dean when the blackout hit. We were just arguing, it wasn't even a serious fight. I had been really down that day; Kevin had disappeared into the thin air and we had no clue of Cas, and seemed like my sickness kept going worse by every day and every trial. So yeah, I was down.

And the next thing I notice, I am standing outside in the rain. My other cheek is hurting like I had been in a fight -and I wouldn't even be surprised if it was what had happened. I could never know.

My jacket was soaked with water, and it sent cold shivers down my back. I gave myself a few seconds to think, and then I started running. Running towards the motel, because some weird instinct told me to check on him. I knew it was stupid, I was his little brother and he always told me he would keep me safe, but he'd be dead if I didn't return the favor.

I opened the door, finding it wasn't locked. "Dean!" I called out. "Dean!"

Angry mutter from the toilet. I walked to the locked door, gripping the door handle, asking Dean to open the door. Living room table was broken. _What..._

Dean opened the door, stepping out of the toilet, glaring at me angrily. His nose was swollen and it looked like it had bled alot. His other eye was starting to black a little.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling curious.  
"Don't gimme that bullshit, Sam."

I had never heard that kind of distrust in his voice. It made me feel so frigging bad person, even though I didn't even know what I had done.

"Dean, I-"  
"Shut up. Just... just shut up."  
"I don't even remember what happened, Dean!"

Dean somehow froze, if that's even possible in that situation. "You went completely nuts after our.. disagreement. You kept yelling at me things like 'Sam feels like shit all because of you' and 'you should die'. You don't remember? Really?"

"That doesn't explain this mess", I said, looking around me. Dean nodded.  
"Yeah. I kinda laughed, and you got mad. You just attacked me, started hitting my head and throwing me around. I fought back, and along the way you yelled things like 'I am here to make Sam feel better, to protect him because he's too weak to do it himself'. I don't know what the hell you were talking about, Sam, but it isn't normal."

And for the first time in weeks, I talked. I told Dean about the blackouts, and everything seemed to turn out okay.

* * *

And things actually turned better. I made the third trial and my condition worsened, but the blackouts stopped for a while, and I started feeling like he actually cared about me. But the weight on my shoulders kept growing; I was afraid I'd disappoint Dean again. That he'd decide I couldn't be trusted and-

well, whatever. Things were as good as they could be. Until one day.

Things just sort of collided on me. I couldn't save Sarah, and with that I remembered everyone that died because of me. Mum. Jess. Ash, Ellen, Jo. Bobby. And everybody else.

And like that I was out again.

When I woke up, I noticed I have spent two days doing God knows what. Lonely motel room I was sitting in was bloody. I was bloody. And someone was banging the door.

I got up, my hunter instinct quickly taking control. I cracked the door open only to see Dean behind the door, looking inpatient. He pushed the door open, stepping inside. My _NO_'s weren't heard. As he saw all the blood, he stopped, rising his hands self-protectively.

"Sammy..." he started.  
"Dean", I cried out. "It's not mine, gosh, I don't know whose it is, did I kill someone? Dean, I don't remember-"  
"It's okay", he suddenly whispered, interrupting me, pulling me close, hugging me. "It's okay, Sammy. Forgive me."

With that two men rushed in, grabbed my arms and dragged me away from Dean. And I swear that he was crying.

* * *

I close the little notebook I have in front of me. Sighing, I close my eyes. I'm just so frigging exhausted.

My psychologist told me to write down everything I remember, that could help me and my another person become one. Something that would tell me I am safe, that I am being trusted.

Dissociative identity disorder. In English, split personality. What a great way to end this all.

_You know, I did it all to protect you, Sammy._

I can feel Dean's eyes on my back. I know he is standing behind my locked door, thinking whether to open it or not. I hope he won't.

Maybe today they'll bring my pills on time. It's the only way I can get some sleep.

_You were too dumb to do it yourself, so I had to step in. I was in you, Sam, from the day you turned ten. You know me better than you know yourself. You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm here to help. Let me do this for you, since you can't do it._

My other self takes control again, and even though _I _don't know, see or feel it, he rushes up and runs to the door, making Dean jump. He starts to yell and scream, and hit the little glass on the door, and Dean looks... I don't know. Betrayed. Sad. Sorry. Maybe even depressed.

He turns, and leaves, leaving me and my other self alone.

_See? It isn't too bad._

And then I regain the control. Just in time to see the security man run in and grab me, as always when someone doesn't behave. And I am put under with some nice drug.

When no one sees, I close my eyes, hoping it would stop. But as always, I know it would not. I still try, and hope Dean will find a way out of this.

Maybe this time I can get away of this without too much pain and sorrow. Just this _once._

**I do know it was a bit dark. Sorry for that.**

**Reviews are love !3**

**-Fiia**


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